In the End
by Niyin
Summary: "It should be easy, really. Setting one foor before the other in quick paces, moving forward; away from the noises that followed and surrounded him. Today their prey was a different one. Today there was no time for pain or complaining. Arthur was an excellent hunter." What do you do when you have lost your destiny, when the ones you saved set out to kill you? - You run.


**Author's note:**

**Hi everyone:)  
This is basically a longer version of 'Run like Hell' (which is also written in a different style, with an added character). I just wanted to know how you like it. If I ever continued this, it would be with the style of this version.  
I want to thank everyone who reviewed, alerted or favourited 'Run like Hell'. Hopefully this is alright... :D  
The title is from the song 'In the end' by Linkin Park, because it fits this theme perfectly. (If you don't know the song: www. youtube watch?v=2sGlKpuaj-k without spaces.)  
For those who can't/don't want to watch it, the most important part of the lyrics is at the beginning of the story.  
Now, enjoy and please R&R! :)  
**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.  
**

**In the End**

* * *

_You kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart_  
_ What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when_

_I've put my trust in you  
Pushed as far as I can go  
For all this  
There's only one thing you should know_

_I tried so hard  
And got so far  
But in the end  
It doesn't even matter  
I had to fall  
To lose it all  
But in the end  
It doesn't even matter_

**In the end, by Linkin Park**

* * *

He was running.

It should be easy, really. Setting one foor before the other in quick paces, moving forward, past the trees and bushes. Away from the noises that followed and surrounded him, the red of cloaks flashing through green leaves.

But of course it wasn't as simple as that. It never was when Arthur and Camelot were involved.

The boy's breathe hitched as he stumbled over a root, tumbling down, a gasp escaping his lips when he hit the floor hard. Usually, Arthur would be there in front of him, mocking him for his clumsiness while he complained.

_("Come on _Mer_lin, can't you even take a step without scaring away all prey in a mile's distance?")_

Only today, his Prince wasn't next to him. Today the prey was a different one.

There was no time for pain or complaining. Merlin got to his feet shakily just as the first hunting horn sounded, almost throwing him down again in shock.

Too near. They were already far too near.

He started running again, his feet pounding in a fast rhythm on the floor.

They were hunting him, a witch hunt in every sense, and he knew the techniques only too well. _Arthur had made sure of that._

You chase the prey, let it run and follow calmly, surrounding it with horns and drums and _noise_. The prey would flee until it was exhausted and even then it ran on, slowing down with every step as it tired further. In the end the hunters would only have to walk to the helpless beast, unable to run on, and kill it. He had seen it often enough.

One shot, right between the eyes. Arthur was a good archer.

His black cloak caught in a few drooping branches of a tree but Merlin simply ran on, tearing the fine cloth. He didn't have any time left to untangle it more carefully. Plus, by now it would have been too late anyway. The formerly rich black cloak was torn and dirty, the hood swept back to reveal unkempt black hair and the wide eyes of a hunted child. Innocent in all their fear.

Merlin almost stumbled again, only managing to grab a tree for support in the last possible second, and leaned with a heavy sigh against its trunk. Closing his eyes, the young warlock tried to ignore the nearing noises as he gasped for air.

He couldn't continue.

It sounded so pathetic, so foolish to throw ones life away in a matter of seconds that he almost hated himself for the thought. Merlin knew that he shouldn't stop, he had to go on, if only for his friends. Camelot needed him alive, even if she didn't see it. _Arthur_ needed him.

But he was so tired...

Merlin let his head fall back against he tree trunk, feeling the raw surface comfortingly strong behind him. His lungs burnt like liquid fire with each breath, as if they already wanted to give up. His feet felt like a true mess and the head pounded in tact with his heart beats, blood spilling freely from the reopening wound on his left arm.

His hunters had horses and Merlin knew that Arthur was a lot faster than him on feet, let alone in this condition. It was hopeless.

The young warlock smiled humourlessly. What would Arthur think when he discovered that he was hunting his friend? That elusive, formidable Emrys was none other than cheeky Merlin?

He couldn't really imagine his Prince's reaction. After all that had happened, Arthur would probably send him directly to the stake.

"Emrys?"

The unexpected voice sent a jolt through his body and Merlin stood upright in a second, listening intently. What the hell was Arthur doing?

"Emrys! I know you are here. Show yourself!"

The young warlock hold his breath when the steps approached his tree, cursing that he hadn't covered his tracks better. The hiding spell that he had placed on himself some days ago must be wearing off. Still and despite better judgement, Merlin had hoped that Arthur wouldn't find him quite so easily. Damn hunting-loving prat.

The young warlock's eyes shimmered golden for a moment and the steps stopped abruptly, their owner swearing as the traces suddenly disappeared. Merlin granted himself a small smile. At least one advantage of being Emrys.

"Come on, it's over. You can't run anymore. Just show yourself, I promise you'll get a fair trial."

It was actually quite tempting, Merlin thought with a lopsided grin. Though somehow he doubted Arthur would be as good-natured when he found out that his best friend was the sorcerer they sought and had been lying to him for years.

He had never liked fire enough to get so near to it.

Merlin just stopped himself from letting out a small sigh. Why did Arthur have to make this so damn difficult? Anyone else would have been contented to have their own personal guarding angel taking care of them. But no, of course Camelot's Prince had to dig further and find out who it was. Not even mentioning the put-on-stake-part.

And why the hell did Arthur have to get alert right now, after all the years of blissful ignorance?

Merlin considered sending another light orb to lead Arthur away- it had worked quite fine last time, after all- but then decided against it. Even Arthur wasn't as stupid to fall twice for the same trick.

But then, he had to do something. Eventually the Prince would get tired of waiting and soliloquizing and then he would send his knights to search the surroundings. It was really a wonder he hadn't already, the dogs would find him so much easier through the weakened hiding spell...

Merlin frowned. Where were all the knights? They would never let Arthur walk alone into a possible danger, he had to give them that, even though most of them were insufferably thick. All knights were stubborn idiots. And Merlin had told Gwaine to stay especially close to the Prince in case anything happened to him, just before this whole ordeal had started. He couldn't believe his friend would let him down like this.

Suddenly the feeling of dread increased and Merlin gritted his teeth, slowly turning his head so not to make any sound as he gazed searchingly at the forest. Something was terribly wrong here.

"Áflíeh mé!"

The spell was barely more than a thought, the lightest whisper, but still Merlin hold his breath worried, keeping the uprising magic back by pure will. Arthur had senses like some cat when he wanted to.

Nothing moved on the other side of the tree.

Exhaling slowly, Merlin closed his eyes and let the magic flow.

It was the worst experience with conjuring that he had made so far, and hopefully the worst he would ever make. For a moment, the whole world seemed to drain of its colours as the magic rushed like icy fire through his veins, his whole body protesting to the unusual strain. There was nothing of the normal gentle tingle or the high of power, nothing near this glorious feeling of calm and control that would have accompanied such powerful magic at any other time. Right now, his body was simply too tired for the spell, stressed to its limits and beyond in the last few days.

Had Merlin had the chance to take some time and ask Gaius, ask anyone who knew a bit about magic, they would have instantly and strongly have forbidden him to use said spell- apart from some of the more evil sorcerers who wanted to see him dead anyway. Flying was not one of the natural gift of humans and even with sorcery and for the more powerful magicians extremely difficult to achieve. Most only managed a few centimetres before they crashed down, unconscious from the exhaustion. Had they been anywhere near his actual condition, the spell would have killed them instantly and without a second to regret their choice.

But Merlin was no normal sorcerer or even warlock. He was a being of the old religion just like the dragons and griffins, and therefore magic hold other rules for him. Still, it was almost too much for his body and mind to bear.

Along with the colours fading away, a strange sensation spread across Merlin's chest, pressing and twisting until he could do nothing but gasp for air that wouldn't come, all worries about making too much noise long gone.

He noticed the shuffeling on the other side of the tree rather absent-mindedly, one hand insinctively tugging at his neckkerchief as his feet dangled freely in the air. It was too late for anything other than trying to keep himself from thrashing wildly. And then suddenly something rough and hard met his back, allowing the young warlock to hold onto the branch like a lifeline, before he fell against the tree trunk. His breath escaped with a soft hiss, while the eyes closed all by themselves.

They opened rather abruptly when someone cursed right under him. A quick glance showed golden hair and a bright blood-red cloak, both shining in the evening sun. _Arthur_. Something rustled in the bushes on both sides of his tree. The appearing face nearly made Merlin slip down from the branch in shock. Was that... Gwaine?!

The knight had left his colourful cloak and armour behind in favour of a simple brown shirt and trousers. Most likely they had finally noticed that not being seen was more worth than some flashy metal when it came to fighting magic. His face looked slightly dirty and there were a few leaves in his hair, but the grin was unmistakeably Gwaine's. As was the quiet voice.

"Everything alright, Princess?"

Merlin couldn't make out Arthur's face from up here, but it said a lot that he let the 'Princess' go without a comment. Instead he cursed again. "Emrys was here just a second ago, I swear it. His prints are all over the clearing and there's a trail of blood leading here."

The young warlock felt hot and cold waves switch in his gut. Why hadn't he thought of the blood?

"Relax." Gwaine's voice sounded still calm and for a moment Merlin took a dee breath to obey the command, before he noticed that the knight wasn't even talking to him. "Our plan can still work. He has to be somewhere near. With that wound he couldn't have climbed some tree or run away."

What plan were they talking about? ...oh yeah, right. They had used Arthur as a bait to lure him out in the open and then let the knight capture him. Merlin felt a lump forming in his throat. It had almost worked out, if not for the warlock's fear of Arthur's betrayed gaze.

The Prince snorted rather undignifiedly. "He is a _sorcerer_, Gwaine. For all we know he could have disappeared into thin air or something."

Merlin supressed a bitter laugh. If only it had been so easy...

Gwaine sighed. "If Emrys could disappear, he would have done so about three days ago, Arthur" he explained, voicing the warlock's thoughts. "I say we search the area. He's most likely hiding somewhere near. And if he isn't we've alrealy lost him anyway."

There was an apprving murmur and suddenly the plants parted to reveal a good dozen knights, all dressed equally to Gwaine. Arthur nodded slowly and then repeated the action more confidently.

"You have heard Sir Gwaine- search the area! I want every stone to be turned and every trail to be followed until Emrys is found." His voice turned suddenly sharp and cold like a blade. "He will pay for his actions."

Merlin shuddered automatically. He didn't know what was better- the eerily understanding Arthur a couple of minutes ago or this cruel and bitter one. The branch cracked slightly and the young warlock hold his breath, but no one seemed to notice as the knights dispersed and vanished again. Only Arthur amd Gwaine stayed visible. The prince gave his knight a long gaze.

"Do you really think we can find him? Stop this?"

His voice was barely more than a whisper and Merlin strained to hear it. Gwaine shrugged with a small grin. "We'll have to."

"I don't know anymore what to expect" Arthr confessed in the same small worried voice. The knight looked slightly alarmed.

"Hey, whatever you think, I'm not Merlin's replacement while he's sick." He paused and threw a quick glance around. "I know this whole thing has taken it's toll on you, but as long as we don't know where Emrys is, we have to assume he is in hearing distance. Who knows, maybe he's sitting in a corner under some bush doing a psychologic study on princes?"

The image was so absurd that even Arthur couldn't hide a smile. Merlin didn't manage more than a small tug at his lips. At least Gwaine was taking good care of Arthur.

"So, head up and get going. All moping won't do any good if Emrys gets away in the meantime." The knight paused for a moment, before he winked and continued in a louder voice: "And maybe Emrys is innocent after all. There's still the chance that he shows himself and ."

The sudden silence as everyone listened was broken by a clap and a complain as Arthur hit Gwaine around the head.

"What was that for?!"

The Prince smirked. "You couldn't be more obvious, could you?"

"It was worth a try," Gwaine answered with a shrug, pouting. Arthur just shook his head. "Even if he has heard you- he's a sorcerer, remember? He will never believe the word of a knight of Camelot."

Merlin thought he could hear Gwaine mutter something along the lines of "Can't blame him", but the Prince didn't dignify it with an answer. Instead he sighed and looked around at his knights bustling through the undergrowth. "I wish he would just show himself and let us go home. I'm tired of sleeping on the floor."

He glared at Gwaines laughter. "Litterally! How does anyone expect me to find a sorcerer, when I can barely close an eye at night because of all the roots and stones?"

Merlin couldn't suppress a fond smile. Trust Arthur to start complaining even while they suspected the warlock they chased in hearing distance.

"I guess Emrys isn't any better off, with all the blood he's lost..." Gwaine mused, looking thoughtful.

_Oh, so that's where the dizzyness came from!_ The young warlock huffed. Being a son of magic, Merlin could survive more than most. He only needed some time and herbs to recover. As long as no one looked up...

As if some god had heard his silent plea, Arthur and Gwaine both turned at once and walked away. The young warlock sighed softly. _Finally...  
_

It was that moment that the branch under him gave a dangerously cracking sound. Merlin had only time to think _'Of course, just my luck. Simply wonderful.' _before the whole thing came down with him. (In hindsight, he should probably have cast a spell instead of thanking his luck. But then again, he wasn't sure if he would have managed. The flying spell had already been too much.)

There were a few precious moments of nothingness as he fell, the wind blowing past him, caressing him with invisible fingers. He was light as a feather, sailing on the wind. Had his magic caught him? He didn't know or care anymore. That is, until reality- and the floor- caught up with him.

Landing was exactly the opposite to flying. It was _hard_ and _pain _and _no bloody air, he couldn't breathe, he was suffocating_-

From the corners of his eyes, Merlin could see the knights shrink back, some yelping in shock. Apparently no one had expected all-powerful Emrys to fall from a tree. It didn't stop them from pointing their sword at him- from a safe distance, of course. Only Arthur and his closest knights stepped forward to stare at the pathetic heap before them, covered by a torn black cloak. Merlin would have been embarassed and angry if he still had the energy.

"Show youself!"

It was the Prince's voice, demanding as ever. The only difference to him ordering his servants around was that now the tone was a bit less arrogant and a lot colder_. What wouldn't he give to get the other one..._

A boot touched his side, making Merlin flinch unconsciously- _stupid, now they knew that he was conscious and just not answering_- before a sharp cold blade took its place. This time, the warlock hold very still, only a slight shiver still visible.

"Who are you? Show yourself or I'll run you through."

They were still expecting a trap, after all that had happened. It made Merlin want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Arthur growled, obviously misinterpreting the huff that had escaped his lips. "Don't think I wouldn't follow through with it. You are a powerful sorcerer- the most powerful, if my sources are to be believed- and you've been living in Camelot for years. I don't care if I kill you now and see your face later."

There was a bit of movement in the rows of knights, some seeming uncomfortable. If the sorcerer had lived in Camelot for so long, there was a good chance that they knew him. It could be their neighbour or even friend. Gwaine put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, trying to hold him back without making it obvious. It was, to Merlin anyway.

"You would better listen to him, if you don't want to see him really angry, my friend. And blieve me- you don't." Only Gwaine could call a wanted sorcerer his friend. And only Gwaine could get away with it, despite Arthur's cold gaze. "There is still the chance of a trial. But you can't be acquitted if you're dead by then."

It was tempting to ignore them, shut down his mind and simply stop to exist. His Prince would most likely kill him anyhow- this way, at least he didn't have to see Arthur's dejected look before. He was so sick of it all.

But Merlin had never chosen the easy way. Why should he start now?

His body felt strangely light as he forced himself on his hands and then on his knees, the cloak still covering his thin frame. The blade's pressure increased for a second and then moved on to his neck. At least that way it would be over fast. The sword was sharp, Merlin knew that- after all, he had sharpened it himself before he had had to run. Lifes ago.

The young warlock only noticed that he had been dreaming when the blade moved, cutting the soft skin through the rag that had once been his cloak.

"What are you waiting for?"

Arthur had never been one for patience- obviously a problem of the whole Pendragon family. This time Gwaine didn't stop him.

Merlin gulped, nearly choking on air- _he needed water, his mouth was too dry_- but finally complied. Everyone tensed as his hands rose to the hood, pushing it back all on their own. He lifted his head to look past the sword and straight at the one holding it; his Prince, the one he had sworn to protect with his life if necessary. No one could have guessed that he would die at _his _hands.

"Hello Arthur."

The words fell like thunder in the silence, his voice raw from lack of water and usage. Why did he sound so emotionless, when his insides were at war?

"_No."_

Merlin could barely understand the whisper- he didn't think the knights could, except for Gwaine maybe- but he did see the sword slipping from the Prince's grasp and hear it hit the floor, harmless. Instantly a young knight jumped forward to place his to the bare throat, keep the sorcerer at bay, though Arthur and Merlin ignored him. He didn't exist in their universe of shock and regret and broken trusts.

No one existed, no one but the two of them.

That is, until Gwaine uttered a single word, dragging the world with all its pain back. Wide eyes flickered between the Prince, the sorcerer and the knight, all frozen in an absurd scenario.

"Merlin."

* * *

**"Áflíeh mé!" = Let me fly./ Let me escape.**

Did you like it? Is it worth continuing? If you've read Run like Hell, which one is better? Or are they equally good/bad/whatever? :D

**Review Responses (to the ones from Run like Hell):**

**Guest: **Thanks! :) I hope you liked this one as well, despite the different style...

**E: **Wow, thanks! :D I want to continue this, but I'll have to finish another story first, so it could still take a while. Sorry.

**Emrie: **Thanks! :) As soon as I've finished one of my other stories, I'll think about a continuation (well, if people still like it with a different style, that is ;)).


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